Poesy Part I: Crinkly Feelings, Latin Phrases, and Mustard Gas

Dear readers,
"Don't you just love poetry that gives you a crinkly feeling up and down your back?"
Yes! Do you!? 
The character, Anne Shirley's, inspirited musing gives voice to my own - though minimal - experience with poetry. 
With that said, it is with great felicity and flourish that I present to you a series of posts that will forthwith feature some of my favourite poems (I'm on an alliteration role!)! 
They are just a smattering of verses; poems that I can read time and again without becoming immune to their profundity and the captivating beauty of their words - the way they dance on the end of my tongue, and create a mosaic of colour and emotion in my mind's eye.


The first poem I shall share with you deals with the agonies and horrors of the First World War, and is written by leading British war poet, Wilfred Owen, who was killed at the age of twenty-five on the Front, only a week before the Armistice. The majority of his work was published posthumously.

Dulce et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, 

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs 

And towards our distant rest began to trudge. 

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots 

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; 

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots 

Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind. 

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling, 

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; 

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling 

And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime... 

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light, 

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. 

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, 

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. 

Close up of a gas victim in a painting
I saw at the Canadian War Museum (2013).

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace 

Behind the wagon that we flung him in, 

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, 

His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin; 

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood 

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, 

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud 

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,— 

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest 

To children ardent for some desperate glory, 

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est 

Pro patria mori.*

* "It is sweet and right to die for your country." A Latin phrase from an Ode by Horace, often quoted during the War.

If you're interested in delving deeper into this gripping and haunting poem, feel free to peruse some of the sites I've included here below...

• http://www.enotes.com/topics/dulce-et-decorum-est/in-depth
• http://www.shmoop.com/dulce-et-decorum-est/
• http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen1.html

Why Do We Remember...?

War Cemetery in Ottawa, 2013

The German novel, All Quiet on the Western Front, begins with a short but powerful inscription:

"This book is to be neither an accusation nor a confession, and least of all an adventure, for death is not an adventure to those who stand face to face with it. It will try simply to tell of a generation of men who, even though they may have escaped shells, were destroyed by the war."

Erich Maria Remarque's exposé of the Great War became an immediate bestseller in 1928, and is considered by many worldwide, as the greatest war novel of all times. Not only does the German author raise questions and reveal different aspects of the war (nationalism, politics, shell shock, trench warfare, death, etc.), but he explores how they emotionally and physically affect one soldier (named Paul Baumer) and thus exposes how an entire generation of men were bombarded and wounded by the horrors of war.
Remarque himself fought in the Great War (WWI) and recovered five times from major wounds. When Adolf Hitler and his Nazis Party began rising to power during the 1930's, they branded Remarque's anti-war book as unpatriotic and used it as kindling in many of their book burnings. They also spread rumours that the famous author was secretly a Jew, hiding his identity by changing his last name from Kramer to Remarque (Remarque spelled backwards). In fear for his life, Remarque fled from Germany to Switzerland and later to the United States, where he remained until the end of the war.
In 1930, a film adaption of All Quiet on the Western Front met with considerable praise across America, but in Europe great controversy and outrage arose over this "anti-heroic and disturbing" depiction of a war whose aftermath was still a fresh and painful reality, like a great wound that has just begun to scab over. Dietrich Bonhoeffer - a German theologian and later a spy who plotted against Hitler and paid for his actions with his life - watched it in an American theatre with his French friend Jean Lasserre. They were both moved and brought to tears during the film, especially during a scene where the main character, Paul, stabs a French soldier in a shell hole, only to be forced to lie for hours beside him as he slowly dies from his injuries. 
Bonhoeffer, a German, and Lasserre, a Frenchman, sitting beside each other as friends, watching their countrymen kill each other. 
They probably considered the horrific fact that if they had been a little younger, Bonhoeffer could have been the one stabbing Lasserre or vise versa.  

I determined to reread this book recently as it coincides with the hundredth anniversary of the First World War. I find the novel all the more poignant as it comes from the perspective of a German soldier; a perspective that is often neglected in North American literature.
A hundred years is a large milestone to reach; a good point from which to look back and consider the past and to reconnoiter the future. As Canadians we wear poppies as a symbol of our remembrance and take part in memorial ceremonies for those who have sacrificed their lives for our country.
Why is it important for us to remember? You, my dear readers, have probably considered this question in some way or other. There are many answers that can be given and perspectives to be considered and I would like to share with you one of the greatest and most imperative.
The majority of us cannot truly understand the horrors of war - we have not experienced them. Canada has not had war on its own soil for over two hundred years (the War of 1812). The numbers of veterans who keep the memories of the World Wars alive and personal are dwindling. They will soon fade completely into the archives of history. 
In the Old Testament, God instructed the Israelites to establish rock memorials after witnessing his Almighty Power. This was to protect man against his own forgetful nature and to benefit the next generations when they asked about a memorial’s significance. People could share about the event and keep the memory alive and in the process strengthen their faith (read Deuteronomy 6:20-24 and Joshua 4:6-7). Jesus later instructed his disciples at the Passover meal to eat the bread and wine "in remembrance of (him)" (1 Corinthians 11:23-26). We don't want to turn our backs on memory and forget like the Israelites often did; turning their backs on God and continually repeating their sins. 

We remember so that we don't forget.


Resources:

Metaxas, Eric. Bonhoeffer. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2010. Print.

Remarque, Erich Maria. All Quiet on the Western Front. Trans. Wheen, A. W. New York: Ballantine Books, 1982. Print. 

SparkNotes Editors. All Quiet on the Western Front. SparkNotes, 2007. Web. 11 November, 2014.

Szterszky, Subby. Remembrance of Things Past and Present. Focus Insights, 2014. Web. 11 November, 2014.

Vance, Jonathan. Remembrance. Canada's History Magazine, October - November 2014. Pages 30-39. Print.